


White Pestilence

by Feral_Female



Category: Torchwood
Genre: AU, Gay Sex, M/M, Romance, Sickness, Violence, weevils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 03:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Female/pseuds/Feral_Female
Summary: Our dashing Captain and his beloved factotum are back in Cardiff, their holiday in Scotland ending on a sadly horrific note. Both men are eager to get back to work, bury the hatred they encountered and move on with their life together. But things at the Hub aren’t exactly comfy-cozy…The tension between Gwen and Ianto is palpable. Martha has some disquieting news about Ianto’s DNA tests, and Owen has been spending a considerable amount of time in the dank bowels under the Hub with a sickly Weevil named Penelope. When Penelope dies from the strange symptoms she’d been exhibiting, the Torchwood medic is the first to sound the alarm, but by then the pestilence that has already infected Owen may also be free in Cardiff.My posting schedule will remain the same for the near future. Funny how when I get one manuscript done five more take its place.This tale – as all of mine do - takes place mainly before CoE although you might pick up some nods to things that occurred in the first three episodes of “Children of Earth”. There may also be a few small liberties taken from time to time with references to the show and its timelines.





	1. White Pestilence - Chapter One - New Week, Same Job

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter One**

**New Week, Same Job**

**Ianto**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

Dawn had yet to color the skies of Cardiff but I was awake. Nightmares. New ones. Fresh and vivid they had trampled over my sleep for the past week. Just one week home and it felt like I’d been run through a wringer emotionally. I hated waking up in a cold sweat, chest heaving, lungs contracted as the vestiges of the night horror lingered for a mere moment then faded, always leaving me feeling emasculated.

I was a Torchwood agent. Being bashed by a gang of fools and ruffians should _never_ have happened. I’d faced down aliens for God sake, yet a quadruplet of drunken bigots had gotten the drop on me. It was beyond embarrassing.

I rolled to my side to watch Jack sleep. Perhaps to enjoy the tender fingers of dawn as it shone pink and purple on his skin. I liked to study him as he rested. He was softened by sleep, the slight laugh lines by his eyes easing away to give me a glimpse of the younger Jack. Or Javic if we were being proper. It chuffed me no end to know that I was the only person alive who knew his real name. Not Gwen. He’d not shared that with her. He’d shared that with me because he loved and trusted me and…and I sounded like a fourteen-year-old with self-esteem issues. Gah.

 Unable to resist, I reached out to touch his bare chest, the flesh firm under my fingertips. The sheet and blanket rested over his hips. The coverings on my side were knotted around my legs, a testament to how I’d tried to run from my attackers in my sleep.

“You going to lay there admiring my good looks, or are you going to slide that hand under the covers and give me a proper wake up?”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I moved closer, dropping my mouth over his collar bone as my fingers slipped under the smooth sheet. His cock fit perfectly into my hand. Jack sighed at the contract. I suckled on his neck and shoulder, stroking him base to tip, caressing the smooth head of his cock with each pass.

Jack moved to face me and took my prick in his hand. His touch was firm perfection.

“Together,” he whispered as our room gradually brightened.

I wiggled closer. He held his palm up for me to spit in then his hand closed around both of our cocks, pressing them together. My hand tightened around his. Eyes locked we got closer and closer, his teeth finding his lip on occasion as the sensations grew. I came first. Jack held tight, pumping hard, my spunk easing the friction of his drying hand. My grip on his hand had to be painful as I thrashed and pumped my hips. He tumbled over the summit a moment after I did. His beautiful blue eyes closing as he arched into the tightness of our hands. He was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. Breathtaking. Stunning. Masculine. Mine. A tremor ran through me, followed by a heated gasp.

“Now that’s…the way every man should wake…up,” he panted, his thick lashes slowly rising to show me sated and happy eyes. “Make a note, Jones.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack shuddered theatrically then nipped at my lower lip. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be late for work.”

“You say that as if it would be a bad thing.”

We gave our still rigid pricks one last stroke. He and I both moaned then the damn alarm on his phone went off.

“Guess we’re going in early.” Jack leapt out of bed, found his phone with his clean hand, and then placed it to his ear as he padded into the bathroom to talk and wash his hands.

“Wonderful.” The thought of seeing Gwen at the ass crack of dawn did not fill me with unfettered joy. Things between her and I since our return from Scotland had been strained to say the least. I kicked off the coverings. Jack was already drying his hands on a blue hand towel that hung beside the door.

“Weevil sighted by a bagel delivery man in Birchgrove,” he informed me while I cranked on the spigots for the shower.

“Really? With the sun up? That’s rather odd behavior.”

He tossed his phone to the counter. It slid up against a small glass jar stuffed with swabs. “My thoughts exactly.”

He grabbed a fast kiss and stepped into the shower. I shaved as he washed and then I took his place under the spray. Jack was in the kitchen warming something in the microwave, fully dressed and ready to go by the time I had pulled on a clean suit and gotten my shirt collar to lie down properly. Lack of starch from the dry cleaner. I’d have to remind them to go heavy next time.

“You still look damn good in a suit.”

“Flirt.”

He laughed and pulled a mug out of the microwave. I paid it no mind as I scurried around to fix a quick cup of tea.

“Here, I heated up a cup for you.” He shoved the mug of microwaved tea into my hand. I spun from him and dumped it down the sink.

“How long have you lived in this country?” The look I gave him was dark.

“Look, I know you have rigid rules around tea and coffee but time is of the essence Weevil? Broad daylight? People freaking out?” He tapped the watch on his right wrist. “Why wait around for the kettle to get hot when you have such an amazing machine?”

“I’m going to pretend you never said that.” He paced like a caged tiger while I made a proper thermos of tea. Then we left. In retrospect, perhaps I should have brought the miserable microwave tea with us. His need for speed might have been lessened. Jack’s lead foot was always evident but when he was in a hurry he was a danger to those on the road and the unlucky sods riding with him.

“You look a little clenched, Ianto.” He cranked the wheel sharply to make the turn left. We skidded on the damp road, nearly missing the turn.

“Perhaps if you slowed coming into the turn?”

“You’re the coffee expert. I’m the driving expert.”

I thought to reply but we bumped up over the curb, dropped back down, and flew around a group of nuns crossing the street. Several made gestures as us.

“Sorry sisters!” Jack yelled to the side then wheeled us sharply to the right, tossing me soundly into the door. My tea was safe in the cup holder so far.

“I hope they were blessing us,” I muttered. We stopped a second later, the seatbelt snapping tightly over my chest.

“ _Damn_ that was invigorating!” Jack grinned, popped the safety belt, and rushed out of the SUV to go meet Owen and Gwen. Several unkind words in my native tongue escaped me. Jack pounded on the hood of the SUV making me jump. He waved at me to come along then ran off, his coat snarling and snapping like a flag behind him.

“I hate mornings like these.” I gave my tea a longing look before leaving it in the car and taking off after Jack.

“Ianto, I need you to cover the western half of the block. I’ve already met up with Owen. Tosh, what can you give us with CCTV feeds?” Jack’s voice flowed into my ear. I took a sharp left, hooked around a bakery just opening its doors, and nearly collided with Gwen racing in my direction.

“Sorry,” she gasped, throwing her hair from her face. “Thought I’d meet you halfway.”

“That was polite of you.” What else could I say? She gave me a wilted smile before we set off. Following Tosh’s directions led us around the block and up to the Birchgrove train station.

“Alien life sign has just gone over the fence and now moving down the rails,"Tosh informed us. 

“Bloody wonderful,” Gwen huffed. I broke out ahead of her, running up to the fence and going over it without issue. Gwen scrambled over the chain link fence. Her landing was wobbly. We stood on the platform, looking this way and that, working on catching our breath. “Anyone know when the next train on the Coryton Line comes through?”

“Five minutes and four seconds,” Tosh informed us. “And our Weevil is following the rails.”

“Of course, it is,” I huffed then dropped off the platform. Gwen followed. Perhaps I should have offered her a hand. I would have before. Now? Well, now I didn’t. God, it was awkward.

“Ianto and Gwen, Owen and I are nearly there. Get moving and get that Weevil before the morning train hits it!” Jack barked in our ears.

I threw Gwen a look. She nodded and we took off again, following the rails until we rounded a corner and came upon the Weevil staggering along. It spun when it heard or smelled us. Gwen skidded to a halt, her boots catching on a railroad tie. She tumbled into me. I righted her and stepped away quickly, pulling out a can of anti-Weevil spray and aiming it at the alien.

Gwen pulled her gun. Wise. We’d seen Weevils shake off the effects of our spray with increasing frequency. Obviously, they were building up an immunity but until we had something new, the old spray coupled with a bullet if needed, should knock him/her/it down.

The Weevil lunged at us, fangs bared. It was hit dead on with spray in the face and a bullet to the chest, crumping at my feet.

“Thanks for that,” I said to Gwen. She nodded curtly, holstered her gun, and dropped down to one knee to stare at the Weevil.

“What’s all this white powdery stuff on its cheeks?” Gwen asked, waving a finger at the Weevil’s hideous face. I opened my mouth to reply.

“Train’s coming!” Tosh yelled in our ears.

I glanced up. Yep. The train _was_ coming. The rumble could now be felt along the line. Gwen grabbed a Weevil arm, I grabbed another, and we pulled/leaped into the woods bracketing the rails, rolling ass over crumpets until we and the dopey Weevil came to a stop at the bottom of a deep incline.

Lying on the ground, bruised and buggered up, my head thumping lightly, my suit soiled and torn, I listened to the train rolling past. Gwen lay beside me, cursing lightly. The Weevil was across us, its hot, moist, sour breath fanning my face.

“Hey! What are you two doing lying down?” Jack yelled from the top of the rise we’d just tumbled down. “Morning commuters? Come on, get moving!”

“Bloody insufferable man at times,” Gwen grumbled.

“You have no idea.” I reached over and shoved the Weevil’s face in another direction.

“I can hear what you’re saying,” Jack shouted down at us. “Stop complaining and get moving.”

The Weevil passed gas. Or had died. Whichever, the smell was atrocious.

“I do love Monday’s,” I mumbled. Gwen murmured in agreement.

 

**To be continued...**


	2. White Pestilence - Chapter Two - A Nightingale Visits

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Two**

**A Nightingale Visits**

**Jack**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

Owen and I stood outside the cell that we’d deposited our groggy guest into.

“She’s not shaking off the spray as quickly as she should,” Owen said, arms crossed over a long-sleeved t-shirt under his white coat. “Another sign her system is compromised.”

“And we know it’s a she how?”

He threw me a flat look. “Just a feeling really.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, I’ll leave Janet in your hands.”

“She feels more like a Penelope to me.” The medic continued to stare at the slumbering alien.

I shrugged. “Then far be it for me…” I said and walked off, leaving Owen to study/stare at the Weevil. I had other things to attend to. Like checking with Tosh to see if she’d pulled up any closed-circuit imagery to show us where Penelope had come from. I knew she’d left the sewers, but which part was what I was curious about. If this was a new tick for the aliens that lived under Cardiff – coming out during the day – we needed to know about it before it became a thing.

I pulled a quick left after leaving the cells. Ianto was down here in the archives, doing what he did best. Well… that was a lie. He did plenty of things much better than archiving, most of those things were of a sexual nature. His cooking and coffeemaking were right up there, as was his soft laugh and the way his gaze touched me in public. Oh, that look. Shy yet filled with sensual knowledge and promise. Maybe I should head upstairs and let Ianto do his job. For once.

Having mastered my cock yet again, I jogged back to my office, delighted to see Martha waiting for me, spinning a red U.N.I.T. cap on her index finger. My face broke into a wide grin.

“You finally brought it. Ianto thanks you.”

She tossed the cap in my direction, her smile naughty. I caught it neatly. “For some reason, I think it’s _you_ who thanks me the most. You owe me big for that one. Had to steal it from under the nose of the requisitions officer. Miserable old toad who’d sooner swat you than speak to you.”

“I am eternally indebted, milady.” I lifted her tiny hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She giggled like a school girl. “As is Ianto who’s down in the archives at the moment.”

“Ugh, I hate it down there. So many old tunnels filled with creepy twists and turns.” She shuddered dramatically.

“He seems to like it down there.”

“Well, he’s welcome to it.”

I placed the red cap onto my desk and leaned my ass against the heavy wooden top. “Why do I suspect that you didn’t drive all the way from London just to hand deliver that cap?”

She sighed and crossed a shapely leg over her knee. “You’d be right. I’d like to talk to you about the final reports we got on Ianto’s DNA analysis.”

She sounded serious. “Should I call him up from the depths?”

“Please.”

I nodded, pushed away from the desk, and shut my office door. Tosh and Gwen didn’t need to hear what might be said in confidentiality. I then pulled out my cell, dialed Ianto, and laid it on the desk so Martha could hear how excited he’d be to know she was here. He liked her a great deal, and these tests had weighed on him. I could tell even if he never spoke of it.

“Jack, hello.” His voice sounded echoed. Not surprising considering he was in the massive labyrinth of damp tunnels under the Hub.

“Ianto, can you come up?”

“Looking for a quick shag during lunch? You’d think that mutual wank we had this morning would have taken the edge off.”

Martha snorted and blushed bright red. I winked at my dear friend. “Uh, well, not that a lunch time shag isn’t appealing but I was calling to let you know Martha is here.”

“Tell me you don’t have this on speaker.”

“Hello, Ianto,” Martha called. I snickered.

“Fuck. I mean…dammit. I’ll be right there.”

“You’re a scoundrel,” she teased. I nodded. No point denying it. “This is highly inappropriate,” she said, reaching down to lift a small leather satchel from the floor beside her chair. “But, I know that you and he are partners and…well, he’s easily distressed. After that mugging in Scotland I – well, I just didn’t want to drop something upsetting on him without you there to soften the blow.”

“I understand. Thank you for thinking of him.” I sat down behind my desk, using it as a wall between me and the bad news I feared was coming. Not that the news wouldn’t just float over my desk and latch onto my face like a Dinatanian mud slug. God, I hate those things. I steeled myself for the horror to come as she pulled out a slim file and laid it across the satchel resting on her thighs. Her eyes met mine. She looked back when my factotum rushed through the door.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Ianto panted as he closed the door behind him. He instantly walked over to stand at my right, adjusting his tie and jacket.

Dr. Jones smiled at us then began fiddling with the file and tripping over her words.

“Martha, just say it. I’m sure we can handle hearing whatever findings you’re hiding in there,” I said.

Her gaze left the shelf of alien hands in jars to touch on me. “That’s just it. We have nothing to tell you.”

I blinked at her then up at Ianto. He looked stunned, the bruising along his temple standing out sharply in this lighting.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re—”

Martha opened the file and began reading. Most of it was medical jargon that sailed over my head. By the look on Ianto’s slack face he was as lost as I was.

“Can we have that in a language that we non-medical folk can grasp?” I asked, Ianto standing at my side like a tin soldier in a fashionable pinstriped suit.

“Yes. Well, basically it says that the biggest brains in U.N.I.T. – myself included – have no explanation for the anomaly we’ve found in your DNA.”

“But…how can that be?” Ianto asked as I leaned back in my seat to reflect on what I’d just heard.

“I don’t know. I’m _so_ sorry. But we’ve compared this to every sample of every living organism on earth, and the DNA strand is unique. And before you say it, we had that ducal slug sample to compare it to. This is not that. Oddly enough, this unique strain seems to be slowly recoding the change the slug made to your genetic makeup.”

“Is that possible?” I enquired, scrabbling to grasp – and then flatly deny – what this could mean.

Martha rose slightly to hand her file to Ianto. He whispered a soft “Thank you” and began flipping through the readouts and findings.

“I wouldn’t have thought so had I not seen it with my own eyes.” She looked positively gutted. “I feel just terrible coming back after all this time with nothing. Ianto, we worked diligently on this.”

“I believe you.” He closed the file and stared at the wall for the longest time. “What am I then?”

“You’re my lover, my friend, and my newest agent.” I took his hand in mine. My touch appeared to pull him from his shocked state. His gaze left the wall to settle on me. “That’s what you are.”

A miserly smile pulled at his mouth. “Thank you.” He glanced at Martha. “And thank you. If it’s all right, I’d like to get back to the archives. No one put anything away in the right place while we were gone and it’s an absolute mess down there.”

“Yes, of course. We’ll talk later.” I gave his chilly hand a squeeze. He nodded, tossed the file to my desk, gave Martha a weak nod, and left us to gape at the door after he’d left.

“Is he okay? Jack, I am _so_ sorry.” She had her satchel hugged to her chest, her brown eyes were dewy.

“He’ll be fine. We’ll talk tonight. I’ll get him through this.”

She smiled at me, a warm wonderful smile that only Martha Jones could smile. “You two are so lucky to have each other. Really, don’t try to joke it off. Few people ever find what you two have.” She pushed to her heels and leaned over my desk to peck my cheek. “I have to get back to London. Please, call me if you or Ianto need any help at all with all of this.”

“I will. Thank you.” I got to my feet and walked her to the door. The secret door that is. I waved at her as she rode up and up and up.

“Everything okay?” Gwen asked, appearing at my side as the lift thudded into place.

“It will be.” I gave her a reassuring smile and went back to my office to mull and give Ianto the space he needed.

 

**To be continued…**


	3. White Pestilence - Chapter Three - The Underneath

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Three**

**The Underneath**

**Ianto**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

Odd as it seems, being down in the burrows under the central atrium of the Hub had always felt reassuring to me. Most of the others hated it down here. The endless miles of dark red brick tunnels with splotchy yellow fungus growing here and there, the lights on the ceiling linked by miles of cable -  I’d not installed them despite what Owen thinks – and the dampness and huge rooms filled with crates and shelving made most claustrophobic.

For me, the archives were my domain. Where I was in utter and complete control of everything. From the numerology of how the alien artifacts we found were entered into the database to the massive fish tanks further down the terminus that had – at one time – linked all the various Torchwood bases. Those had crumbled and flooded way before I’d been taken on. The breaches had been sealed and now there was no way to reach another base other than by car or air. Pity, really.

This was my dominion, my province, and here I ruled supreme.

Of course, my underlings were inanimate objects and deep-sea creatures that someone had brought to the Hub. Why they were here I’d never been able to fully uncover. They’d been part of things when Jack had arrived so he knew little about them. It was also my job to feed the different species brought in from the various oceans of earth – or we had assumed they were earthly. Some were translucent, others armored with thick black scales, and one tank held blood-red, writhing, worm-like things. They were monstrosities and they were mine.

“Just like Jack,” I whispered to the tank holding huge fish with gaping mouths and no eyes. They swam about uncaring of my problems, weaving and slicing through the warm water in pursuit of the small guppies that I’d dumped in a few moments ago.

Monsters. All this time I’d thought myself above the category that Jack placed himself in. Now? Well, now I wasn’t so sure. I saw myself in the thick glass, the reflection seemed human. Hell, I _felt_ human. But something in me was not at all human. What did that mean? My God, the ramifications were too terrible to consider. An alien on the payroll of Torchwood? The Crown would not be pleased. And if I was not fully human then did that mean that one of my ancestors had slept with something not of this world?

“What the hell am I?” I enquired of a long, sleek transparent fish as it torpidly moved past. Its skeleton and internal organs were clearly visible. The tanks burbled and bubbled in reply, the fish shooting past in pursuit of a meal. That was when I heard footfalls. The sharp strike of hurried steps on the damp floors of the tunnels.

Stepping out of the tank room, I followed the rusty rails on the floor, going in the direction of my visitor. It wasn’t high heels but boots. Jack perhaps. Rounding a bend, I saw Gwen hustling along, a box in her arms, glancing into every room she passed. She was clearly anxious. When her gaze touched on me, she jumped and screeched, nearly dropping the box she was holding.

“Fucking hell!” She gasped. I walked to her and relieved her of the box. “You scared the spit out of me.”

“I’m sorry. What are you doing down here?” That sounded brusque although I’d not intended it to. I simply wanted time alone to think and process.

“I thought I’d bring down one of the boxes we’d just lobbed junk into while you were in Scotland and help you put them away.” Her smile was a bit timid, as if she feared me for some reason. Or, she feared my reaction.

“That’s quite kind but I’d rather take care of archiving them myself.” A slow drip, drip, drip filled the awkward silence. “It makes things run more smoothly.” Our voices echoed softly.

“Oh, sure, well of course. I can see that.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Would you like some company while you put them away?”

“Thank you, but no. It’s work better suited to being done alone.” I jostled the box to a more comfortable spot under my arm.

She bit down on her lower lip, sighed, and then blew a long strand of dark hair from her face. “Okay, I understand that. I just…I thought you looked upset when you left Jack’s office.” She shrugged, her leather jacket crinkling. “I wanted to see if you wished to talk to someone. I’m _am_ the empathic one after all.” Her attempted smile fell quite flat.

Perhaps a year ago I might have taken her up on the offer. Now though she was undoubtedly the _last_ person I wished to discuss anything personal with. I knew that was petty of me but that was where things stood.

Gwen shuffled from one foot to the other as I tried to come up with suitable words to be polite yet firm.

“Right, well, your silence speaks volumes as they say. I’ll just nip on back to my work station and do…work.”

“I’ll go put these away.” I shook the box gently.

She turned and walked down the main corridor, stepping into and then out of the circles of yellow light the bulbs overhead cast down upon her. I stood there with that box under my arm, wondering if I’d been too cruel or childish until she was out of sight. Probably I should have handled that better. Gwen was trying. Perhaps I should as well. Every time I thought to try as well though that stab in the metaphorical liver that she’d given me twanged, and all my good intentions withered.

Not having any answer, I carried the box into the fourth room housing the finds from this year. Metal shelving units ran across the walls. Half of them were full already. The rift had been keeping us busy over the past decade, heaving increasingly more junk and assorted aliens into our world. I spent two hours placing the bits and bobs into the correct containers. My mind whirred the entire time and when I turned off the lights for the day, I was no closer to any sort of solution than I had been earlier.

Perhaps a night curled up on the sofa with Jack would…I paused as I passed one of several rooms filled with cells. Owen’s voice drifted out. I peered around the doorway and there he sat on the floor, long legs in a lotus, an electronic notebook on his thigh, talking to the Weevil we’d brought in earlier.

“What’s making you fade away like this?” he asked. I slipped inside and walked up behind him. He glanced up at me. “She’s dying. I think.”

I looked from the medic to the Weevil. She was lying on the floor just the other side of the see-through partition, her eyes glassy. The white splotches on her head had grown rapidly and now covered her face. It seemed as if the scaly stuff were trying to spread over her nostrils and mouth. She weakly scratched at the crust then moaned. Owen made a matching sound that was frankly beyond creepy.

“Is there nothing to do for her?” I asked simply to make conversation.

“I know little to nothing about them aside from they have a lower body temperature than we do and they shit themselves when knocked out. When she expires I’ll take her to the autopsy room and dissect her, run some tests on her internal organs. I wonder if that scaly mess is something like mange...”

“Not a clue.” I stared at the raspy Weevil for a moment. “Do you need anything? Dinner brought down?”

“Oh, no. I ate some time ago.” He waved me off so I left him to his observations and went in search of Jack. Home sounded damn good.

 

**To Be Continued...**


	4. White Pestilence - Chapter Four - And Then There Were Five

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Four**

**And Then There Were Five**

**Jack**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

 

Cooking was not my forte. I did a passable job of it, I mean, I’d never starve but I wasn’t the cook that Ianto was. Hoping to ease him out of his quiet and reserved state, I’d offered to make the evening meal. He crept into the kitchen from time to time, dressed down in jeans and a soft gray t-shirt that did marvelous things for his eyes. Each time he’d peek in I’d wave him off. When my creation was ready, then he could enjoy it. Hell, we even had wine to go along with the meal.

“I’m not sure wine was really called for to accompany hot tuna melt sandwiches.” Ianto commented over his wine glass before he took a small sip.

I sat down behind my sandwich, proud as hell of this culinary marvel, and poured myself a rare glass of the grape. The light red burgundy was tasty but dry as a desert.

“I’m hoping to get you tipsy then take advantage of you,” I replied then set my glass down beside my plate. His gaze met mine over the food. “Or maybe just help you relax and talk. Perhaps about the flat. As in…well, the general feel of the place. Do you think it needs some more stuff maybe?”

His exhalation ruffled the paper napkins in the holder. “I wager it will take more than a nice bottle of burgundy but the thought was touching.”

“Ianto, we’ll get to the bottom of this. I swear to you that I won’t let this rest until we have answers.” I leaned my elbows to the table. Some of Ianto’s independent bands were playing on the stereo. The folksy music was mellow and fit the mood of the meal nicely.

“I’m not sure there are answers to be had. And if there are, wouldn’t it be a matter of searching through my genetics?”

“That would be where I’d start. When you go to see your mother ask her.”

He made a derisive sound into his wine. He’d yet to touch that hot tuna on dark rye I’d slaved over for ten minutes.

“That would be an interesting conversation. ‘Hello. Mum. I’m bisexual and I’m in love with my male boss who’s been known to shag aliens on occasion as well as coffee boys. Speaking of shagging aliens… any chance you might have heard if great-grandma Olivia ever talked about fucking anyone who wasn’t from this planet?’”

He was dryer than the damn wine. “You might be able to phrase it a bit differently.”

“Possibly.” He tossed back the wine and shoved the food aside. “Please don’t glower at me. I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat. You’re still too—”

“Lean, yes, I know.” He did pull the plate toward him. Then our phones went off, the shrill ring tone that signaled an incoming call from the Torchwood computer system. We looked at each other, the food, the wine, and then sighed in perfect unison. Ianto gathered up the plates and wine while I pulled up the call on my wrist strap.

“Shit,” I muttered when I saw the text rolling in from the police scanners. “Looks like another Weevil has been spotted staggering around the grounds of the university.”

“Another one?” He closed the fridge and jogged after me, tossing me my coat then pulling on a light jacket. We checked our guns, turned off the lights, and thundered down the stairs. The SUV awaited us on the street. “Any chance I can drive?”

“Nope.” I dropped behind the wheel and cranked the engine over.

“ _Duw bendithia ni_ ,” he murmurmed as I sat down and buckled up.

“Asking God to bless us again?” I asked then floored it. We two-wheeled it around the corner.

“Since when do you speak Welsh?”

“I pick things up. And you say it nearly every time we get in the car. If I didn’t know better...hang on!” We skidded around a big pickup truck, ran into the oncoming lane, and then zigged back into our own lane. Horns blared. “I’d think you didn’t trust me behind the wheel.”

“I’ve no idea where you’d have gotten that idea.”

He made me chuckle. Then he hung on for dear life. We roared into the paking lot at the uni and slid into a parking slot.

“Ha! Man, I am good!” I was out of the SUV in a flash of gray wool and enthisiasm. I surely did love adventure. The blue lights around the windscreen pulsed steadily. Ianto joined me a few seconds later.

“Quick question,” he said when he caught up to me prowling around the English department’s building. I had my gun out but pointed at the ground and was whispering to Tosh and Gwen, who were somewhere over by the arts building.

“Shoot.”

Ianto pulled out a canister of Weevil spray. “What do you like better? Action or sex?”

I threw him a wicked look. Mist blew by us, the tiny droplets illuminated by the large streetlamp overhead.

“Sex. With you. Hands down. Actually, you with your hands down as _well_ as your knees.”

“I like sex better as well,” Toshiko replied in my ear.

“Sex. Definately.” That was Gwen. “What was that?” she asked a moment later. “Shit. There are four of them.”

“Four?” Ianto gave me a concerned look. “We’ll be right there. Don’t engage them!”

“Right. As if we were that stupid,” Gwen snapped. Tosh began to say something then the snarl of a Weevil broke into the dialog. Ianto and I tore off over a large knoll, slipping and sliding in the wet grass. Gun shots rang out.

“Dammit!” I hissed as we pounded across the campus. At least we had the ugly weather on our side. That was keeping most of the students inside. I bet a large number were peeking out the window of their dormitories though. We’d have to do something about that later. Right now, we had to get to the ladies.

We found the girls a moment later, backed against the wall of a main library, guns up, four sickly Weevils advancing on them. Ianto and I ran at the beasts. I tackled one. He sprayed another in the face. The third one lunged at Tosh who shot it in the shoulder. Gwen shot the fourth in the face. Me and my Weevil were having a good tussle. It rather reminded me of the first time I’d met Ianto. Hopefully I’d not get bitten this--

“Son of a bitch,” I snarled when the Weevil clamped down on my arm. My newest agent ran over to yank the alien off. It came free as did part of my sleeve and a goodly bit of flesh judging by the blood. I might have let a few blue words fly.

The Weevil lashed out wildly. Ianto ducked then kicked it in the stomach. A gurgling sound came from it and it fell to its side, scissoring its legs and grasping its abdomen. He pulled his gun from his jacket pocket and aimed at the creature’s ugly face.

“Damn the bastards. I just bought this coat,” I panted as I slowly got to my wet boots.”Ouch, damn those bites always hurt.”

Ianto held his bead on the alien until the others gathered around. 

“It’s seemingly in great pain,” Tosh commented. We all nodded.

“I only kicked it. That shouldn’t cause this much discomfort,” Ianto said.

“No, a kick is nothing to them. I’ve run into them at full speed with the SUV and they shake it off and run away,” I replied, grasping my forearm as blood seeped through my fingers.

“Sorry about that.” He inclined his head at his wound. I shook my head to indicate it wasn’t a worry. “Why don’t I go fetch the SUV and we’ll try to cram them all in?”

“Yeah, good.” I grimaced then turned to Gwen. “Ianto and I will clean up out here. You and Tosh need to clean up inside.”

The ladies went off to talk to people about what was seen and explain to those who might have witnessed us shooting aliens that, in fact, we were RSPCA officers rounding up and capturing chimpanzees that had escaped from a travelling gypsy show. Don’t scoff. That story has served us well for years.

“Here.” Ianto took me aside, removed his jacket then pulled off his shirt. I gave him an arched brow.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the beef cake but is now really the time?”

“Behave.” He lifted my arm and wrapped his shirt around the gaping wounds, tying the cotton tightly before he slipped his jacket back on. “I’ll be right back. Do try to not overexert.”

“Can we continue playing doctor and patient when we get home?” I waggled that one eyebrow lecherously.

“We’ll see.”

“First time I ever looked forward to a prostate exam.”

He gave me a flimsy smile then left to bring the SUV around.

I’d call any night we can round up four Weevils and make Ianto smile a rousing success, my mangled arm notwithstanding of course.

 

**To be continued...**


	5. White Pestilence - Chapter Five - Spillover

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Five**

**Spillover**

**Ianto**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

“Owen!” Jack shouted as we struggled into the Hub with one bitten and bloody leader. My boyfriend was in more pain then he wanted to let on. He had actually let me drive back to base. He’d lost a goodly amount of blood and I was starting to worry about his pasty coloring. “ _Owen!_ ”

Our medic ran up from the autopsy room, clad in scrubs and a mask, his white apron splattered with dark blotches and bits of what looked like brain. Owen’s dark eyes went wide when he saw Jack and his bloody arm.

“Sick bay. I’ll be right there as soon as I change,” Owen said. I gave Jack a worried look.

“I’ll be fine. A few stiches and I’ll be right as rain. Get them into the cells before they wake up.”

“Right.” I did as I was told but I didn’t like it. It took bloody forever for Tosh, Gwen, and I to haul four Weevils from the parking area to the cells. By the time I’d locked the last one in we were all exhausted. Tomorrow I’d have to clean the SUV as the nasty shits had bled, drooled, and defecated all over the back. I hated transporting Weevils.

When I got to the sick bay, Jack’s arm was already tended to, wrapped in sterile gauze and in a sling. He’d not have that sling on for long. I’d wager within an hour it would be gone. Owen and Jack were discussing the autopsy results with Gwen and Tosh. I slipped around the foursome gathered around Jack’s gurney. He gave me a faint smile when I possessively stood right at his left side, his thigh tight to my hip.

“I want to see that wound in the morning and change the dressing. Nasty bastards have all kinds of microorganisms in their mouths.” Owen tossed a syringe into the trash then peeled off his rubber gloves and tossed them into the bin as well. “I might hit you up with another antibiotic shot then too.”

“I’ll be fine. What did you discover about the white patches?” Jack enquired.

“Not much yet. I’ve just really started. Had to wait for her to die. I do have some skin samples and will be testing them. My first guess is we’re dealing with some sort of parasitic mites, much like the ones that cause mange in mammals. I’ll have more information late tomorrow.” Owen gave us all long looks. “Go home.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and yawn widely. “I work better without you all here.”

Jack wanted to balk, I know he did, but he relented. Another sign that his injury was painful.

“Here.” Owen handed me a small bottle of pills. “Try to get him to take a few. They’re light pain killers.”

“I don’t need them. By this time tomorrow I’ll be good as new, or relatively close to new.” Jack slid from the gurney, tugged his ruined coat up over his arms, and then gave the shredded half a sleeve a long, sad look. “Another one bites the dust.” His sigh was heartfelt.

“We have several in my closet.” He then proceeded to dilly and dally about, checking facts, and making calls to whomever it was Jack made calls to. Heads of state, coat salesmen? After an hour, it was just us and Owen in the Hub. Gwen had gone home to Rhys, and Tosh to Chadwick. I was entering some facts about the night into my diary up in the Visitor’s Center, yawning and checking my watch.

“You can stop looking at that stopwatch. I’m here.” He stepped to the counter then wiggled behind it, his arms looping around me as I sat on the lone stool. Breathing in his warm, spicy natural scent filled my nostrils then my lungs. A tremor of need shot through me. His aroma was intoxicating. “You ready to go home?”

“I’ve _been_ ready.” I slid my diary into the till and locked it. Jack began to place feathery kisses to the back of my neck. The sensation was delectable. “It’s been you whose been lollygagging about.”

My head rolled to the side of its own accord. He made a yummy sound beside my ear and then licked my neck, one long, wet, swipe along my jugular.

“Let’s go home and see where this leads,” he purred against my skin, releasing me, and stepping back a bit. I stood, turned, and found a million emotions in his sultry eyes. Acting on those lusty ones was appealing but not here with Owen shuffling about. Imagine his glee and horror if he walked in on Jack railing me over the counter. He’d have wiseass ammunition enough for ten of Jack’s lifetimes.

“Owen still at it?” I nudged him gently to move. He did and walked around the false front of our base, spinning the rack of key fobs, and lifting a postcard to pretend to be reading it. I covered the till and tidied up a bit. I disliked coming into to a mess in the morning.

“Yep. You know how he gets.” I nodded, turned off the lights, and followed my lover out into the night. Jack waited by the edge of the dock while I locked up. I joined him at the water’s edge. The moon was a sliver and partially blocked by incoming clouds.

“You do realize we’re going to have to walk all the way around to get to the parking lot.”

Jack glanced over at me. “I do, yes. I thought we could talk along the way. About…things.”

He took off and I fell in beside him. The slap of the water on the pier was pleasant, as was the fresh, damp breeze. Another cold front coming in. You could smell the rain on the air.

“What did you want to talk about?” I finally prompted when we’d walked nearly around to where the SUV was parked.

“Okay, it’s just…your flat has big closets.”

I admit that was not at all what I thought would tumble out of his mouth. “Oh. Yes, it does. It’s one of the reasons that I chose it. That, and it’s relatively close to work.”

“Right. Two great assets for a home.” He hustled along at a good clip. Jack always walked with purpose but tonight he seemed to be double-steeping it. Must be in a rush to get home and continue chewing on my neck. I wasn’t against that idea at all. “Big closets and close to work. So, the person or people who live there could walk to their place of employment if needed.”

“They could. It’s a bit of a go but if you gave yourself enough time…”

We walked past Owen’s sleek Jaguar. The SUV sat in its slot under a dim white bulb. “It’s also got a nice roof.”

I stopped walking and stood staring at him over the hood of the ebony Range Rover. “As roofs go it’s rather appealing. Is this going somewhere?”

Jack glanced up at the light. He tapped on the hood of the SUV. “I was thinking…since your flat has such nice closets and it’s close to work that we…maybe I could...” He rolled his eyes. “Those closets could hold a lot of stuff.”

“Yes,” I said because I had no clue what else to say. “Did you want to store something from Torchwood at my flat? I’d be fine with that as long as it wasn’t something explosive or possibly corrosive. Oh, or if it held alien glop of some sort. Folks below wouldn’t be happy if alien glop soaked through their ceiling.”

Jack huffed. I blinked. “No, no glop. Ianto…” Our cells rang simultaneously, the emergency squeal making us both curse softly. “God dammit!” Or in Jack’s case not so softly. He fished around in his pockets for his ear piece while I brought up the call.

“Looks like a pack of teens found a sick ape lying in the alley over in Splot. Someone spotted them poking, took a picture, and called it into the police.” I showed Jack the image of a Weevil surrounded by several chavs.

“We’re not done talking about the closets. Get in!” Jack snarled, ripped the driver side door open, and threw his bulk behind the wheel.

I whispered a prayer then got in, buckled up, and braced myself for another ride from hell. I wasn’t disappointed. We made it to Splot in record time, beating the police thankfully. Jack exploded out of the SUV, shouting at the pack of hoodlums to leave the damn thing alone.

They flipped him off then ran. “Stupid punks,” he grumbled as we neared the Weevil. It had been peeled out of its clothes. They were even uglier nude.“God, this one is _covered_ with that white stuff.”

Jack knelt beside the sickly alien. All the fuzzy hair on its head was gone, replaced by thick white scales. It’s stomach appeared distended. It was having trouble breathing.

“This one’s not long for this world,” I commented. Jack stood up, staring down at the Weevil rasping and fighting for each breath. He took out his Webley and put one shot into the alien’s throat. Then another. And then another. Finally, the Weevil expired.

“Whatever this crud is it’s racing through the population. Maybe it will kill them all,” he hypothisized.

“It’s possible. Nature does that frequently. Culls a population when it’s grown too large for its habitat,” I commented as we snapped on latex gloves, gathered up the dead alien – Jack holding its legs and me its wrists- and hustled it to the SUV. The back was still disgusting from the previous haul so we just laid it in and shut the hatch. We removed our gloves and tossed them into a bag which was sealed. It would be incinerated upon return to the Hub.

“I wonder if fate would be kind enough to kill them all off,” Jack said then tipped his head back to look at the heavens. I did as well. There was nothing to see but ever-thickening clouds.

“We should go before the police get here.”

Jack looked from the dark sky to me. “Yes, of course. Sorry. I was lost in thought.”

We passed the first police car coming to investigate. “Think they’re calling us names?” We drove into the rain. The wipers came on and began slapping back and forth at a brisk pace.

“I’d reckon so,” he replied, his eyes locked on the wet road. We pulled into the parking slot we’d just vacated not that long ago. Jack took the legs, me the arms, and we wrestled the dead Weevil into the elevator. Thankfully no one else was out and about this time of night. The local shops all used this lift as well. I didn’t feel like explaining to Mrs. Merkins who owns the knick-knack shop what this creature dangling dead between my boss and I was.

When we staggered into a damp, dreary tunnel that leads to the blast door, we grunted and groaned, lugging the Weevil along until we were inside the base.

“Son-of-a-bitch, those things are heavy,” Jack panted after we let the corpse rest on the floor for a moment. “Not much further to the autopsy room.”

“You two need to leave. Now.” We both turned to face Owen. He was in a hazmat suit. “Go.”

“Uh, care to fill me on what the hell is going on here?” Jack asked and took a step closer to Owen. The medic raised his gloved hand to stop him. “Owen? What is it?”

Owen took several steps in reverse and tugged off the hood. His neck and chin were covered with white scales.

“We have cross-species transmission,” Owen replied then let the hood drop back over his face.

 

**To be continued...**


	6. White Pestilence - Chapter Six - Leadership 101

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Six**

**Leadership 101**

**Jack**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

Within an hour all my employees and their significant others were inside the Hub. While I appreciated Owen being obsessively careful, all of us had been exposed to the white pestilence that was spreading through the Weevil population. There was no need to be in that cumbersome hazmat suit.

Sitting back in my office after a rather invigorating phone call with the Prime Minister, I watched my team in action and pride filled me. Even in the face of being infected themselves, they shuttled that worry aside to do their jobs. And big jobs they were. We had to try to track down anyone who’d been in contact with the infected Weevils. Two more had died in our cells. Owen was at his computer, in an old blue hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, pounding away violently on a keyboard resting on his thighs. I could see a spot of white scale on the back of his left hand. The stuff was aggressive, covering human flesh much faster than it appeared to do so on the Weevils. Our skin was much more tender and easier to corrupt it seemed.

“I have that list,” Tosh said as she hustled into my office. She and Chadwick both had round circlets of white scale on their legs and stomachs. Rhys had a tiny spot on his back, and Gwen had several patches on her arms. Ianto, amazingly or perhaps not so amazingly, had no signs whatsoever and neither did I. I’d probably been immunized against this during my tenure at the Time Agency. Ianto? Well, that was cause for a long think – those incredible and mystifying genetics of his – but that long think would have to wait. “I’ve used the CCTV cameras and have gotten the names and addresses of the teenagers who were unlucky enough to stumble across that Weevil in Splot.”

Ianto hustled in with papers and began to speak. I pointed a finger at him.

“We know how it’s pronounced by estate agents,” I said. He snapped his mouth closed and laid out the paperwork in his hands on my desk. Reports from the local hospitals had shown no cases of the Weevil crud. Yet. “Okay, it looks like we may be able to contain this if we hustle. We’re going to have to hit it from two sides. One is to round up these kids and isolate them. Maybe their parents by now. Christ, this is on the verge of a pandemic. If we can’t lasso this problem over the next twenty-four hours I’m going to have to call U.N.I.T. in. I hate calling the government in. They invariably make the situation worse.”

“We should also go into the sewers and locate the sickly Weevils and remove them from the herd. Pack? Gaggle? What does one call a group of Weevils?” Ianto enquired.

“Bloody trouble,” Chadwick said from the doorway. The gangly redhead scratched lazily at his stomach. “Let me go with Ianto into the sewers. I have the right equipment for hunting.”

Ah yes, the bow of Artemis. Greek gods moving about on the planet still seemed far-fetched to me, but then again, I chased little green men from Mars. Or Gandar Kih when they showed up looking for a party. I glanced up at Ianto. He nodded.

“Okay, fine. Euthanize those who are showing signs of illness. If you come across any that are infected but not sick bring some back for Owen for further study.”

“Jack, that might be hundreds,” Tosh pointed out.

“We only need a few that might have a resistance to the sickness. Owen will want those for further study to see if we can somehow use their resistance in humans. I wish I could say kill them all but we don’t have the staff for a total annihilation unless the goverment steps in and we all know how much I dislike that.” I exhaled in aggravation.

“What about the ones that aren’t sick yet?” Chadwick asked. I looked right into his green eyes.

“Kill any that you can. It’s not unlike stumbling into a nest of rats. Wipe out as many as possible. They’ll breed and make more.”

“That’s a bit heartless,” Chadwick mumbled and stratched.

“When you watch one of them rip the throat out of an innocent person then talk to me about heartless. Those are the orders. End of discussion.”

Owen slid into the tension.

“We do know a bit more than we did twelve hours ago. We know that once the scales begin to form internally there’s not much hope of recovery.” Owen wiggled past Chadwick, his hoodie pulled down to his eyebrows. The scales were spreading quickly and now covered his chin. “They block off the respiratory system and death is imminent.”

“And what’s the effect on humans?” I asked. All eyes went to Owen.

“The fuckers itch,” he growled. Tosh and Chadwick muttered in agreement.

“Are we looking at mites then?”

“Microscopic yes. They feed on the hair follicles, killing them, and the scales form. Something must have changed in the sewers to cause this bloom in the mites. I’d wager they always have them but the mite numbers are low enough not to be a major health hazard to the host. I’m running tests now to see if it’s the saliva that interacts with the skin that forms the scale, or if its fecal matter.”

“Oh God, that’s disgusting.” Tosh said then began scratching at her thigh.

“Keep on the medical aspect of this. Call Martha if you have to,” I said to Owen. He inclined his hooded head.

“I’d like to draw blood from you and Ianto. So far, neither of you have shown any symptoms and Ianto handled an infected one without gloves,” Owen stated.

I glanced up at Ianto who nodded then back at our medic. “Let’s get that done then. I’ll take Gwen and we’ll begin tracking down the fools who stripped a dying Weevil and took its clothes. Ianto, you and Chadwick head into the sewers. Tosh you’re here to coordinate. We’ll have to round up a truck. I doubt we’ll be able to fit all the sick Weevilsinto our vehicles.”

“I can round up a lorry fast enough.” Rhys called from outside my office door.

“Eavesdrop much?” I shouted as Owen began rolling up my sleeve and poking at my left arm to find a good vein. “How sick are you?”

“Not so sick I can’t drive a bloody lorry,” Rhys yelled back.

“Ride with Rhys then. Leave him in the truck. I’m not going to be responsible for any injury that he might get slopping around in the sewers. Gwen would kill me,” I told my lover.

“Right.” Ianto went to leave but was called back by our medic.

“Blood please,” Owen said while snapping on latex gloves. “Oh, and while your out, grab me a bottle of hootch. Don’t care what kind. Might as well have a few drinks before my mouth is closed for me.”

I looked under the hood and saw the fear in those dark eyes of Owen’s.

“When this is done, we’ll all have a stiff belt,” I assured my doctor.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Owen tightened a tourniquet around my bicep and proceeded to jab a needle into the fold of my arm.

 

**To be Continued...**


	7. White Pestilence - Chapter Seven - A Hunting We Will Go

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Seven**

**A Hunting We Will Go**

**Ianto**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

 

“So, this is nice. Kind of like the old days.” Chadwick began twiddling the knobs on the radio. The lorry Rhys had gotten smelled of pigs. “Back when it was me, you, and Lisa.”

“You saying I look like this Lisa?” Rhys asked, hitting another red light. I wished we had been in the SUV. That had a nifty little device to turn all the traffic lights green if needed. Also, if I were in the SUV I could keep track of Gwen and her piteous looks. I threw a look at Rhys whom I rather liked. He was an affable sort of bloke, took us and what we did in Torchwood better than many would have, and seemed to love Gwen deeply. So why was she always chasing after men when she had a good fellow like Rhys who adored her?

“Not even close,” I mumbled then wiggled a bit to get Chadwick’s bony arse closer to the door. Why was it always me stuck in the middle?

Chadwick snickered at my comment then shifted the longbow lying across his lap. It was a magnificent thing, crafted in silver that glowed even in the dark of a rainy Cardiff night. The string seemed to be otherworldly as well. Perhaps Arachne had spun it.

“Tell me about this.” I touched the bow and a thrumming sensation ran into my fingers. Rhys began digging at his arm.

“I did once,” he replied, giving the bow a long, loving stroke. I glanced at the quiver resting between his knees, the arrows also seemed alight from within. They had silver shafts. The fletching on each arrow appeared to be hand-worked but I couldn’t make out what sort of feathers had been used.

“Tell me in more detail.”

Rhys whipped the lorry around a corner.

“Still having trouble with the concept of gods walking among us?” Chadwick tossed that long shank of flaming hair away from his nose. The piercings in his eyebrow blinked as we drove under a streetlamp.

“Maybe. My stance on religion is taxed quite often simply being a bisexual man. Knowing that gods do exist makes denying them rather tricky.”

“Yeah, I get that. Tell you what, someday we’ll hop on a flight to the states and I’ll introduce you to a couple. Great blokes. Sons of the war god but not _too_ bloodthirsty.”

Chadwick gave me a wink and a nudge. Travelling wasn’t on my agenda for some time. I reached up to touch the stitches above my ear. My wanderlust had been abated for a bit.

“Right, here we are.” Rhys pulled into a parking area behind an abandoned factory. “You sure this is where we have to go in?”

“It’s always been the hub of Weevil sightings.”

Chadwick popped the door open, grabbed his quiver, and slid down to the ground. As did Rhys.

“Oh, uh, no,” I said when my shoes hit the pavement. “You’re to stay here in the lorry.”

“Look, Ianto, I’m fully capable of taking care of myself,” Rhys argued then dug at his side. “I’m sick with this crud, so seems I should be one of those fighting to contain it.”

“Gwen will—”

“Gwen will get over it.” He pushed around me, flipped down the seat of the lorry, and took out a cricket bat. My heart skipped a beat or two then I got myself under control. Stupid to be anxious about a damn bat. “Let’s go. We’re wasting valuable time.”

Off he went, bat over his shoulder. I gave Chadwick a look. At least my old friend had some experience hunting monsters. Rhys worked for a trucking firm, was a bit out of shape, and tended to think with his heart and not his head.

“Gwen’s going to rip him a new one,” I told Chadwick.

“Can’t blame a man for wanting to step up.”

Rhys shouted at us to catch up. We jogged over to him standing by a sewer grate, a trickle of water running into the opening.

It took some work but we lifted the heavy metal grate free and laid it aside. I slipped my earpiece in and watched as Chadwick wiggled his gangly body down into the opening. Rhys had a bit more of a time getting in, but once he got his belly though, he went down like a greased pig.

“Jack, we’re about to go into the sewers. I have a couple things to pass along.”

“And what would that be?” Jack asked.

“One is that I’ve decided that if we see a clown down here we’re leaving alien pandemic or not.” That made him chuckle and helped to lighten the mood a bit.

“Damn clowns,” Jack replied lightly.

“And Rhys is with us.”

“ _What?!”_

“What what? Are they in trouble?” Gwen was asking.

“I told you he was to stay in the truck. What part of ‘Rhys is to stay in the truck’ did you not hear?” Jack snapped.

“He’s in the sewers?! What the hell is he doing in the sewers!?” Gwen again, her tone rising.

I tried to wiggle a word or two in. “Gwen he’s fine, he has a weapon. Jack, I heard you clearly. He demanded he come along. What was I supposed to do? Blast him with Weevil spray?”

“Ianto, if anything happens to him I’m holding you personally responsible!” Gwen shouted in my ear.

“He’s a grown man, Gwen. Give him some damn credit for being able to watch over himself,” I snapped then sat down in the street, my trousers growing wet instantly. Damn. I should have changed. Oh well, not like this would be the first suit ruined in the line of duty.

“He’s a civilian, Ianto,” Jack reminded me as I laid on my back and wriggled into the sewer.

“So is Chadwick,” I reminded my boss. My feet hit solidly. Water washed over the top of my shoes as the stench of sewer rolled over me. Sometimes I hated this part of the job.

“Chadwick has a damn bow from a goddess. What does Rhys have? A thermos of cold tea?!” Gwen was now beyond angry and frantic.

“He has a cricket bat.” Someone grabbed my arm and I startled violently.

“Want your boat, Georgie?” Chadwick tittered off to my left.

“Stupid arse,” I mumbled under my breath and moved around the two men. I was the one with the training, such as it was. Jack had promised to take me out for advanced field training as he had the others but we’d just not gotten to it. But, be that as it may, I was the Torchwood agent. I had a gun, cans of Weevil spray, and a torch, so that meant I went first. Rhys fell in behind me, Chadwick brought up the rear with that glowing silver bow of his.

“You tell Rhys that if he gets hurt I’m going to boot him right in the bollocks,” Gwen said. I relayed the message over my shoulder as we began walking through slick-walled tunnels with foul water midway up our calves.

“Tell the lass to stop worrying,” Rhys replied and so I did.

“Bring them home safely, Ianto,” Jack said, his calm voice a relief after Gwen’s harsh bitching. “And that goes double for you.”

“I’ll be fine as long as Chadwick stops tossing Pennywise quotes at me.”

“Beep, beep, Richie.”

“Stop being a fucking git,” Rhys barked which made Chadwick sniggered even louder. We fell into silence after that, moving forward slowly, taking time to check every junction we came to. Thankfully the stupid clown comments died off the deeper we went.

“Hold a second.” I stopped dead, shining my torch ahead. I’d thought I’d seen something moving in the water. A weak splash ahead followed by a low, painful keen filled the tunnel. “I think we have a sick one.”

We progressed carefully, my gun leveled and steady as we neared the Weevil. It was lying on its back, filthy water running up over its white head. It would suck in water, hack and flail, then collapse back into the stream of foul water. I’d be tossing everything I’d worn down here away and scrubbing with steel wool when I got home.

“Bloody hell,” Chadwick whispered as we circled the dying alien. I glanced at my companions. They both looked worried. I couldn’t blame them.

“Put an arrow into it. You want to sever the jugular if possible, that’s the fastest way to kill them,” I told Chadwick.

He stepped closer to the Weevil, nocked an arrow, and let it fly. It sliced so cleanly and so quickly it nearly severed the alien’s head from its neck.

“Christ above,” Rhys mumbled after the Weevil stopped flopping.

I tapped my ear piece. “Jack, we’ve encountered our first sick Weevil. It’s been dispatched quietly. We’re going to go deeper.”

“Ianto, Toshiko here. I have you locked down finally. There was some trouble lining up the mainframe matrix with the advanced tracking system but after I reconfigured the basic data input and aligned that with the—”

“Tosh, luv, we don’t need all the tech specs just let us know when the goblins are about to converge on us,” Chadwick said while tugging his arrow out of the tunnel floor. “Look at that! Not a mark on it. Got to love godly gifts.”

“Right, okay, Jack, are we all connected now?” Tosh asked.

“I’m hearing you loud and clear, Tosh. Gwen and I are about to knock on the door of the first young man we’ve tracked – Shit. He’s running. Why do they always have to run?”

“Okay, well, while Jack and Gwen are in pursuit of ruffians, let’s get you moving. I’m seeing four alien life forms about a hundred meters ahead. Their core body temperatures are lower than humans which is normal for them, and they seem to be huddled together.”

“Right, let’s proceed with caution. Weevils are unpleasant when they’re _not_ sick,” I said. Rhys and Chadwick fell in behind me again, and we plodded along, sloshing ahead one step at a time. Thankfully Tosh was now online. Knowing she could see ahead of us eased my anxiety over having two non-Torchwood back-ups down here with me.

“Damn it! What is wrong with this damn interface?” Tosh snarled in my ear. I held up a hand to stall the men behind me. “Hold your positions while I plug into the backup server and try to boost my signal.”

I looked back at the two behind me. Rhys looked tense but alert. He had a small white patch under his left ear now. Chadwick was loose and ready, his bow in hand, his quiver riding on his back. They appeared to be ready for anything.

“Okay, Ianto, are you still with me?” Tosh asked.

“Ready and waiting for clearance to move on,” I replied, shifting my weight from one soggy shoe to the other. Have I mentioned how much I hate this aspect of my job?

“Just a second. I have to tweak something.”

“That means she’s jamming a screwdriver into it,” Chadwick supplied from my left.

“Gwen hits things. Every time something won’t work she takes a fist to it.” Rhys chuckled, the sound bouncing off the arched walls.

“You can stop telling secrets, Chadwick,” Tosh chided playfully. “Okay, I’m rebooting now.”

Something grunted up ahead. A chuffing sound like a wolf tasting its prey on its tongue. I tensed. Another something made a similar noise. Then another. A low growl followed all the other unsettling sounds.

“Tosh, are you back online yet?” I asked, aiming my gun straight down the tunnel. Rhys stepped up on my right, bat at the ready, Chadwick took my left, bow ready to fire.

“Yes, it’s just a glitch or something that keeps knocking out the – my God. You need to retreat now!”

“Toshiko, how many are there?”

“Ianto, I’m counting at least twenty. Go. Get out of there now.”

“Ianto!” Jack was now huffing in my ear. “Move it. Get the hell out of there now! _GO!_ ”

The beam of the torch reflected off several pairs of eyes. I stepped in reverse, Tosh, Jack, and Gwen all shouting at us to run. The tunnel in front of us filled with Weevils. Some with white scales and some not. Many more not. None of them looked pleased to see us in their world.

“Can we take that many?” Rhys asked as we began to move in reverse.

That was the question, now wasn’t it?

 

**To Be Continued…**


	8. White Pestilence - Chapter Eight - The Delivery Man Cometh

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Eight**

**The Delivery Man Cometh**

**Jack**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

 

“Ianto, get them out of there _now_!” I shouted as I sprinted after Gwen. Damn she was fast. Much faster than me. Maybe I was getting fat. Or maybe it was the coat slowing me down.

“We’re surrounded,” he said, the snarls of the Weevils filtering into my ears.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I grabbed a street light to swing around a corner just in time to see Gwen tackle our chubby little runner. The kid went down hard, Gwen landing on top of him. The portly guy really had no chance, but he had to try. Gwen had him secured, arm up behind his back, knee in his spine, face planted on the street, in about five seconds.

“Ianto, you tell Rhys…” Gwen started to say then had to give her captive a sharp elbow in the back of the head to keep him still. “Tell him not to die on me now.”

“They’re not attacking yet…just sniffing and snarling.” Ianto sounded cool, and that was good. He’d need to be with two civilians with him. Why the hell had I given Rhys and Chadwick permission to accompany my boyfriend? Why the hell had I let Ianto go into something as dangerous as that? Was there no way to keep the man safe? This is the very reason I never do office romances. You just _cannot_ keep the person you love out of danger.

“Okay, gather him up and let’s go. We have to back-up Ianto and the others,” I panted then gave the portly young man under Gwen a tap with the tip of my boot. “Up you go, Ringo.”

“Ringo?” Gwen asked.

“He looks like a Ringo to me. It’s the nose.”

“Ah.” Gwen jerked him to his feet, grabbed his wrist, and took off. The kid stumbled and tripped along, obviously no better at keeping up with her than I was. I really needed to cut down on the heavy meals Ianto made at night. Or, maybe I should be happy for a little paunch as long as he was there to keep making those fattening foods.

“Ianto, I need you to keep talking to me. Ianto?” I huffed as we hustled back to the SUV.

“Fine, we’re fine. They’re acting oddly. Rather like they’re trying to figure out what we are.” His professional tone had to be reassuring to the other two.

“Keep talking. I need to hear those Welsh vowels in my ear steadily. You understand?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I think I’m going to decline the next round of sewer travel, even if it does pay double on the hour.”

We ran into the street where the SUV sat, blue lights pulsing.

“Sewer duty doesn’t pay double,” I reminded him then gave the lagging hoodlum a firm shove.

“I think we need to renegotiate that part of the employment contract.”

Ah God. I did love that man, dry as he could be at times.

“Come on, my fiancé is facing a gang of…sewer rats!” Gwen jerked Ringo along. Gwen wasted no time shoving the kid into the backseat.

“Give me the keys,” she barked, her hand open.

“Uh, no, I’m driving. You’re too distraught over Rhys.”

“Oh, like hell! You’re too distraught over Ianto!”

“Gwen, I am not distraught over Ianto.”

“Oh? Really? Then you don’t love him more than anything or anyone?” I blinked at her, rather stupidly. The fat kid in the tight jacket was beating on the thick windows of the SUV. “More than you could ever love say…someone else?”

I handed her the keys. “I love him more than anyone.” And yes, I knew Ianto and Tosh were listening. There was no need to be ashamed to admit that. It was the truth.

“Same with me and Rhys. So, get in.”

I did. With her behind the wheel. We were off before I could turn around to tell the kid in the back not to touch anything. His blue eyes were wide. His chin had been torn open when Gwen had tackled him to the ground. I felt kind of bad for him.

“You,” I pointed at him. “I want names and addresses of everyone who was with you when you found that sick ape.”

“I…got no pen. Don’t let her hit me again,” he whimpered. I dug around in my pockets as Gwen raced to the west side of town. I found a pen and a grocery list from Ianto. Right. We needed milk and butter. I’d try to remember that. First, I had to get him and the others out of the sewers before they were Weevil snacks. “Write on that. Do not touch anything else!”

He nodded vigorously and began scribbling on the back of the shopping list. Gwen was intent on driving, amazingly intent. So intent she missed a turn that I would have taken to slice off a few seconds.

“Gwen, if you’d have taken that last left—”

“Don’t. Don’t sit there and tell me how to drive. Rhys does that and it drives me fucking _nuts!_ ”

“Okay.” Jesus. And I thought Ianto bristled when I gave him sensible driving commentary. We sailed past several cars stopped for the red that mysteriously on my command turned green. The SUV sailed through the intersection, took a sharp right, and then slid to a halt three feet from the spot where our loved ones had entered the sewer. “Nice parking.”

“I know.” She turned to look at Ringo in the back. He handed me the list, his hand shaking violently. “Sorry about this,” she said then looked at me. I was trying to decipher the handwriting so I could pass it along to Tosh who had fallen silent. Ianto was murmuring about wet shoes, Weevil stench, and how he was planning to skip breakfast. And possibly dinner.

“What?” I asked.

“Get the chloroform rag out of your pocket.”

“What? I don’t just carry a rag doused with chloroform in my pocket. I mean, I have spearmint gum, extra buttons, a flashlight, ammo, a comb, and a travel size container of lube but no rag soaked with chloroform.”

“Hello? Can we discuss what Jack carries in his pockets later? Weevils are closing in on the three handsome men in the sewers.” Ianto interjected.

“I don’t want chlorophyll in my face,” Ringo whispered.

“Just punch him,” Gwen said then exited the SUV and ran to the open grate. I looked back at Ringo.

“Sorry.” I popped him in the nose, driving the force of my jab upward. Ringo fell to the side, his nose trickling blood. “Tosh, monitor this kid.”

I ran after Gwen. She’d already wiggled into the grate. Knowing what awaited me, I took one last deep breath of fresh air and then eased myself into the dank underbelly of Cardiff. The smell was unpleasant. I gave my bandaged arm a fast consideration, then ripped the gauze off and stuffed it into my coat pocket. The hem of said coat was dragging in the waste water, but since the sleeve had already been mangled what difference did it make if the hem was dirty?

“Someday I’m going to get the Crown to pay for my haberdashery bills,” I muttered, freed my Webley from my holster, and proceeded into the dank tunnel in front of me, my flashlight beam steady.

“Good luck with that,” Ianto said. “They won’t pay for buttons and bobs.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Ianto. A haberdasher is a men’s outfitter.”

“No, a haberdasher sells buttons, zips, and ribbons. Silly American language.”

I chuckled lightly. “Just keep talking to me, Mr. Jones.” I soon found a dead Weevil with a rather loose head. Ianto was prattling on about soccer now, the soft tones of his voice reassuring.

“Jack, proceed northerly. Can someone tell Chadwick that I hope he stays safe,” Tosh said, her voice cracking just a bit.

Ianto relayed the message.

“Such a sweet bird you are,” I heard Chadwick say. “Any news on if any of these ugly blighters are backing off? I’m getting a mite stiff holding this bow at full draw.”

“They’re not moving now. Just lingering menacingly,” Tosh replied. “Jack, Gwen is waiting for you up ahead in a side tunnel.”

“Don’t just bull in, Jack. You might startle the pack of Weevils into attacking” Gwen spoke up as I approached the small side tunnel she was crouching in. “I have a plan.”

I squatted down beside her, the water moving past pulling on my coat. I wiggled out of the heavy thing and let it drift off with the toilet paper and used needles. Being the head of Torchwood is so glamorous.

“So, this plan?” I whispered, my sight locked on the dark opening a few feet in front of us.

“Let me stagger in first. I think they might not be attacking because some of the team is infected. Maybe we smell like them now. Or, more like them now that we’ve got this crud and crap soaking into our socks and panties.”

“I’m not wearing panties.”

She gave me a look. “Far too much information.” With that she wiggled around me. “I’m going to see if they’ll let me slide up into Rhys’ place and he can fade back to you.”

“Okay, that seems feasible.” I stayed in the tunnel, bent down, ass now wet, and let her lead the show. Her thought processes made sense. And if she could get Rhys out of harm’s way, that would be one less person to worry about.

“What about Chadwick?” Tosh asked, worry coating her question.

“I’ll take his place.”

With that pronouncement, I stood up, straightened my shoulders, and ambled into the tunnel. I could feel a dark look hitting me. Probably Gwen. Or maybe Ianto. No, Ianto would be thrilled to see me. He always was.

“Anyone order take away?” I asked the assemblage.

 

 

**To Be Continued...**


	9. White Pestilence - Chapter Nine - That Moment

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Nine**

**That Moment**

**Ianto**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

As part of team Torchwood, I have a Bluetooth ear piece that relays all conversations between my other teammates to me. Which is how I knew that Jack was supposed to wait outside because he wasn’t infected. I wasn’t either but for some reason the Weevils were treating me with the same odd acceptance – if that was the right terminology – as they were Rhys, Chadwick, and now Gwen. Perhaps the smell of the white pestilence from the others covered mine up? Who knew. So, when Jack strolled in, arms out, oozing cockiness, I wanted to kick him in that firm arse of his. The moment that unique, musky, maddeningly sexy aroma of his hit the sensitive noses of the Weevils they began exhibiting unfriendly behavior.

“I had trouble fitting the delivery van down the sewer grate but I did manage to bring the food,” Jack boasted, stepping in front of Chadwick, while making a spectacle of himself. “Who wants first dibs?”

“Rhys, get moving,” Gwen hissed as the Weevils threw back their heads and roared, long fangs flashing in the white beams of our torches. Jack, it seemed, was not a favorite of this crowd. A _persona non-grata_ as it were.

“Like hell,” Rhys countered and took a step to place himself in front of Gwen. I rolled my eyes.

“Rhys, don’t be waving your cock about now,” Gwen snarled, her gun and torch held steadily on the pack of irate Weevils.

“Well, you know, if he wants to…”

“Jack, now is not the time,” I barked, trying to wedge myself around Chadwick, who also was being a stubborn twit.

“Okay,” Jack said, plowing through all of us and swaggering up to the large group of aliens. “Let’s just get this over with. You!” He pointed at a large Weevil in front. It growled menacingly and swiped at Jack. “Come take a bite. I’m amazingly tasty. Don’t believe me, ask Ianto.”

“Dear Lord,” I muttered as the Weevils behind us began to circle around to the front to join their brethren. “Yes, he’s quite yummy. Chadwick, please go now.”

“Fuck that,” the gangly ginger from Liverpool replied, his arms trembling slightly from being at full draw for so long.

“I’m going to throttle you,” Tosh said.

Chadwick snickered softly. “And I love you too, pet.”

“What? No one wants a taste of Jack Harkness? Come on! You all hate me. I hate you. I know I’d not hesitate to wipe you all out so why are you—”

The largest Weevil grabbed at one of the others behind him. He tossed the sickly Weevil to Jack. We all stood there, dumbfounded, as the crusty Weevil fell to its knees in front of Jack and closed its eyes.

Jack gaped at the Weevil leader, if that’s what the largest alien was. “What am I supposed to do with him slash her?”

The roars of over twenty Weevils filled the tunnels. Jack looked back at us. We all shrugged. Then the largest Weevil pulled another sick member of its pack or pride or gaggle from the others. This one as well dropped to its knees and closed its eyes. This happened ten times. Half the number of Weevils that were in that chamber now knelt before Jack, heads down, lips still pulled back to show off those killing fangs, but eyes closed.

Jack placed the barrel of his gun to the head of one of the sickly Weevils. The leader waved a clawed hand at Jack, showed his teeth, and then led the Weevils who were lacking any white spots away.

In that moment… that one amazing moment… we had communicated with this species that had so plagued us. And what the leader wanted was clear. He was offering up the sick and dying of his group for extermination and they had gone along with that plan willingly. To say we were gobsmacked would be putting it mildly.

“What the hell is happening? Someone talk to me!” Tosh kept shouting. Finally, I shook off the shock enough to reply to her.

“The Weevils have left the sick behind to be culled,” I whispered, my gun and torch locked on the aliens kneeling in front of Jack. Just a mere foot from the man I loved. I was edgy and nervous. If one of them made a move…

Jack moved in reverse, one careful step at a time, until he was back beside me. My relief was huge.

“None of them leave this chamber,” Jack said, his words clipped. We all knew what he meant and so we did what needed done. We killed all the ones who had offered themselves up, neatly lowering the numbers of the Weevil population in this area by half. We should have been happy yet there was an odd melancholy riding on our shoulders. It took hours to remove all the dead Weevils. By the time we had them all into the lorry Rhys had provided, we were all bone tired, flighty, and withdrawn.

Jack found me lingering by myself by the rear of the lorry as Gwen and Rhys had a long, loud, and pointed discussion about putting oneself in danger when one had no flecking clue how to handle such situations. Rhys appeared to be losing but he was giving his fiancée a good battle.

“You okay? Head bothering?”

I reached up to touch the short brown hairs and neat stitches. “No, its fine. Just a mild stress headache I think. And you? How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know me, I’m always chipper and incredibly sexy.”

I leaned over to sniff his neck. “Sexy isn’t quite the smell wafting off you. And no, those pheromones of yours aren’t quite covering the stench.”

“Nothing a long, hot shower with my favorite coffee boy won’t cure.” He winked. I smiled and turned to face him. He was too handsome. That smile and those sparkling blue eyes. Even when he stank like dead Weevil and sewer he was breathtaking.

“I know why you sashayed into the chamber and offered yourself up. I heard Tosh asking about Chadwick.”

He shrugged a crusty shoulder while the Gwen-Rhys discussion grew louder off to the right.

“I also know that if you ever do something that stupidly machismo again, I’ll kick your ass up between your ears.”

Jack smiled then placed a hand to the back of my grimy neck. He pulled my mouth to his and a bit of my anger began to dissipate. Not all of it, but a little. When the kiss ended, Jack toyed with the fine hairs on the nape of my neck.

“It’s odd to have someone worry about me. Nice, but odd. Being henpecked isn’t as bad as they say it is.”

“Are you saying I’m a hen?”

He kissed me again, this time so aggressively my backside met the bumper of the lorry soundly. I grabbed at his sides, my fingers tugging on the material of his wet coat and shirt.

“I’m saying that I love how you worry about me.”

“Well, someone has to do it. God knows you don’t worry about yourself,” I sniffed with weak anger and got a fast kiss for my tiffy manner.

“Sorry to interrupt, but my lady love back at the Hub is all alone and getting cranky,” Chadwick announced as he strolled past, breaking up the couples making-up/arguing.

“Your lady love is going to have to whisper sweet nothings over the com-links. We’re on stand-by for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. You, my friend, are part of Team Weevil, which means cruising through Cardiff, looking for sickly Weevils who don’t live with Major Ugly and the main group. Tosh will be monitoring the police steadily and reporting anything that even sounds like it might be a Weevil. Gwen and I will be rounding up the rest of the civilians and are the two sole members of Team Idiotic Chumps.”

“Forty-eight hours? You’re joking?” Chadwick asked. Jack just stared at him. “You’re not joking. Well, fuck this job. I quit.”

“Quit when we have things under control.” Jack said, squeezed my neck, and then jogged back to the SUV.

I wanted to ride with him but opted to go with Rhys and Chadwick instead. I suspected that Jack and Gwen’s previous conversation about who they loved had been allowed to go over the secure line on purpose. Jack wanted me to hear it. He was saying it aloud for all on the team to hear, as was Gwen. I’d have to take her words as the truth, even though it would be a long time before we were as close as we once were. I had to trust them, both of them, if we were to ever get over this dark abyss of mistrust. So, I let her ride with Jack and I climbed into the lorry and was squished soundly between Rhys and Chadwick.

“They smell worse than the pigs that rode in back before them,” Rhys said. I noticed that his cheeks and neck had more white patches on them.

Hopefully when we returned to base, Owen would have some good news for us. God willing, we’d ended the outbreak among the Weevil population, but there was no telling how many humans had been infected.

“I once ran into this monster what smelled ten times worse when I was chumming with Phobos and Deimos,” Chadwick said and then launched into this tale about ancient Greek vampires and road trips that sounded like pure rubbish to me.

That bow on his lap though…that wasn’t rubbish. I’d seen how it had ripped through monster and Weevil alike. There was something magical about it, and I spent the ride half listening to Chadwick spinning his yarn while I stared out into the darkness of a foggy Cardiff night. Magic. That was one thing that I spent little time with outside of Jack’s arms. Any magic that I’d once seen in the world had been scrubbed away years ago by the hand of my father.

We three spend thirty-two hours in that lorry. The smell coming out of it by the time we crept into the underground parking lot made your eyes water. All totaled we’d found and dispatched another fifteen infected Weevils. Jack and Gwen had long ago rounded up the chavs, their families and romantic interests, and gotten them all packed into a small section of the Hub that was relegated as a holding facility for civilians. The room was nothing more than old barracks but it was several steps above the dank cells we stuffed aliens into.

So, when I returned to base, I then had to wheel/carry/drag/roll twenty-five dead Weevils into the sub-basement and then feed them one by one into the massive blast furnace. At one point, I sat down on the damp ground and fell asleep. Waking up an hour later, I leaped to my feet, ran a hand through my hair, and had no clue what was going on until I smelled roasting Weevil on the air.

“Oh, the glamour,” I sighed and shuffled off to drag another infected corpse into the furnace room.

After the last Weevil had been cremated, I emerged from the bowels of the base and was met by everyone sleeping strewn across the old sofa or on top of the big table in the war room. Everyone aside from Jack and Owen, that is. They were deep into a heated conversation in the medical bay. I’d not seen Owen for a couple of days and when I did lay sight on him, I gasped aloud. Both men stopped arguing and threw a startled glance my way.

“Ianto, have you eaten while you were down there?” Jack asked brusquely. I forgave him the harsh tone. We were all well beyond exhausted. I lied to appease him. All I’d had was coffee brought down by Tosh periodically.

I wanted to say something to our medic, but I had no idea as to what. He was a walking nightmare. The white scale had completely covered all the skin that one could see, and probably all that one couldn’t see given how stiffly he moved. His dark eyes stood out starkly among the ivory crust covering his face. His lips had a few small spots. His ears were bloody, as were his nostrils, where he’d dug the scales off, or so I imagined. All his hair was gone.

Why had he been attacked so vigorously by this alien parasite? Gwen, Rhys, Tosh, and Chadwick’s patches were growing yes, but not at this alarming of a rate. The people in lockdown had not shown any signs of infestation so far. They were slated to be released as soon as Gwen and Tosh could brew enough of our special Torchwood Forgetful Time tea.

“Sexy fucker, aren’t I?” Owen asked, his voice rough and scratchy.

“I just…” I shut my mouth and walked over to him and embraced him. He grew rigid in my arms but did allow his brow to touch my shoulder for the merest of moments. “How can I help?”

“Right, yeah, that’s what our illustrious boss and I were just discussing.” Owen then coughed for a solid minute straight. “Damn scales are trying to close off my throat,” he rasped when the fit abated.

I threw a worried look at Jack, who was in his forceful and argumentative pose. Arms crossed, strong legs planted widely, mouth set in a firm line.

“He wants to combine our blood and then inject it into himself to see if it will combat the sickness,” Jack flatly stated.

“How much blood do you need?” I began removing my filthy jacket.

“I told him no,” Jack said. I slipped my arm free and simply gawped at my lover.

“Why? Why would you deny him that chance when it’s obvious our blood carries some sort of immunity to the scales?”

“I’m close to a cure,” Owen said while pawing at his eyes to knock a new scale lose. It fell to the floor like a discarded eyelash. Now that I looked at him, his eyebrows and lashes were gone as well. Dear God above. “It needs a human test subject. The samples I studied under a microscope… are reacting beyond my wildest hopes. Both of your blood chemistries seem impervious to this mange.”

Jack’s no doubt was due to his coming from the future combined with the inoculations when he became a Time Agent. Mine? Well, who the fuck knew why mine was combating this sickness.

I rolled up my sleeve. Jack grabbed my wrist, his frown deep. “No, he is not putting our blood into his veins or anyone else’s. Mine yes, yours, no.”

“Why?” I snapped and shook free of Jack’s hold.

“Because I don’t know what you are.” The man I loved blurted it out. Ouch. Silence fell over the three of us, aside from Owen wheezing and the steady dripping of water. “I’m sorry, Ianto, but until we know what kind of DNA it is that you’re carrying, I cannot allow any member of my staff or the populace to be injected with your blood. I love you but this is for his own health.”

“My own health?” Owen asked loudly then coughed wetly. “At this rate, I have about two hours until the scales internally shut down my respiratory system. I think I’d rather take my chances with your blood and his inside me than dying this way. If the transfusion fails, I’ll die anyway, but at least we’ll have…” He stopped to cough into his hand. Blood peppered his fingers. “Fucking hell, this sucks worse than that bird I took home last week…if it fails you’ll have information to pass onto Martha.”

“He’s right, Jack.” I unbuttoned my grimy cuff and faced Owen. “You take as much as you need.”

Owen looked at Jack with crusty eyes.

“I’m _really_ growing tired of the insubordination in this team.” Jack’s blue eyes were snapping with ire but he did hold out his left arm. “Take mine. Do not take his. That is an order, Owen.”

“It seems to be… the combination that works best. Rather like a good fat blunt _and_ a beer.” Owen tried to smile but the white stuff on his lips cracked and bled.

“Take what you need,” I firmly repeated. This time Jack gave me a nod. He was still wildly angry, but he did incline his head.

“Thank you. Both of you. I’ll need someone to set up the IV once I get the blood mixed properly in the centrifuge. I can’t do it.” Owen held up hands that were thickly coated with scales.

“I can do it.” Jack gave me a look that I’d not seen since we’d been in the country and I’d dared to bring up Lisa. Jack could cut down a mighty oak with just an angry glance. Our boss left after giving a pint of his futuristic blood. It looked the same as any other blood I’d ever seen. I stayed with Owen in the sick bay after my blood draw was completed, helping where I could, until things were ready.

Jack returned right when he was needed, somehow, as he always did, out of the ether. We eased Owen up onto a gurney, got him comfortable, and then Jack set into inserting the IV needle into Owen’s arm. It wasn’t an easy task. I had to use a scalpel to cut off a large patch of scaling to expose the tender human flesh below.

“Now, we wait,” Jack said.

“I’ll be in the archives.”

“Ianto do _not_ go hide in the basement. We have things to discuss.” Jack called.

I walked out of the medical bay anyway, rolling down my sleeve, and headed back to my domain. The one filled with monstrous creatures…like me.

 

 

**To be concluded…**

 


	10. White Pestilence - Chapter Ten - We Shall Be Monsters

**White Pestilence**

**Chapter Ten**

**We Shall Be Monsters**

**Jack**

 (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

It was eight hours later that I made my way to the archives to try to find my boyfriend. Ugh. I still disliked that term but it was better than life partner. Maybe. I was trying to find my Ianto. There. That worked for the moment. Peeking into one of a hundred damp, dark rooms with endless shelves, I gave the area a quick onceover then moved on, my foot finding a small puddle. The tunnels were rife with puddles and mold. Some of the mold was yellow, some white, and some a weird reddish-orange tint that could have been an alien spore taking hold in the bowels of my base. One day I’d have to stop and see if I could strike up a conversation with the odd fungus.

Today wasn’t that day. Or night. What the hell time of day was it? I stopped under one of the sickly lights overhead and checked my watch. Okay, it was going on midnight. Of what day? I lowered my arm, blinked the exhaustion trying to overwhelm me away, and proceeded onward, following my gut now instead of my head.

I found him where I’d felt he might be, in that damn fish room, working at a small desk stuffed into a corner. Papers and boxes filled the desktop. He had taken off his jacket. His back faced me. I paused in the doorway, admiring the stretch of the dirty blue cotton across his broad shoulders.

“Did you need anything?” Ianto asked, never lifting his head from the paperwork he was attending to. He sounded upset. _Well yeah, Jack, he is. And so are you. So, haul your lovely ass over there and work this out._

“I need you to stop working and face me for starters.” This room always made me feel funny. Maybe it was the fish that had been rounded up and deposited here by God knows who for no sensible reason that I could see. Were they here to ogle and poke fun at? Monsters to make our inner creatures seem less frightening? I wasn’t sure why Ianto had gravitated to it as he had, even setting up a small office for himself right next to the small guppy tanks. “How did you know I was here?”

“I smelled you.” He pushed back from the old wooden desk, stood up, and turned to look at me, his handsome face expressionless. The algae on the walls of the enormous tanks cast soft green light over the room, and Ianto. He’d also removed his tie. Quite the thing for him to do at work. He looked as tired as I felt.

I nodded. “I think I need to explain myself a little better.”

“Not necessary. You stated your feelings quite well and clearly. Now, if you’ve nothing else to say to me—”

“If you tack ‘Sir’ onto the end of that sentence I’ll come unhinged.”

He pressed those kissable lips together. I knew him so damn well.

“You profess to like it when I use that term.”

“I do, when it’s playful, not when you sling it at me like a dagger.”

He said nothing. I drew in a long breath. I loved the man but when he was hurt it was like pulling teeth to get him to start talking. Once he did he’d babble your ear off, but getting him to that point was trying at times.

“Owen is showing signs of improvement.” I walked to the first tank and looked in. A long, sleek fish resembling a barracuda but with glowing tendrils growing from its flanks swam past. “We had a small sip of the scotch I have hidden in my desk.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been keeping tabs on him as I worked and assisted in making sure the people in the barracks were dosed properly.”

“Right, yes. They’ll be sent home as soon as the Janto cocktail overtakes them all.” I placed my hand on the glass. It was warm on my palm. The fish turned quickly, speeding at the glass then trying to bite my hand, its mouth open and showing four rows of needle-sharp teeth.

“Janto? Who made that up?” He had come to stand beside me. I could smell him now, the subtle scent of sweat and Ianto. And sewer. We all needed soap and water and about three days of sleep.

“Not a clue.”

“I thought you’d decided not to allow my blood anywhere near the others.”

“I had.” I left my hand on the glass as the fish swam off to catch some guppies. “I’m sorry that I was so brusque earlier. I’m running on about sixteen minutes of sleep in the past four days. Also, that near pandemic problem has made me a little short. It was explained to me - quite loudly and with great vigor - by Gwen that it wasn’t up to me to make that decision for them. So, I allowed them to choose after seeing that Owen was responding to the mixture.”

“Understood.” He exhaled the word. I threw him a look and found him staring at me, his expression soft and sad, not at all angry now. “I’m sorry for being so childish. I’m not used to being called a freak. Well, not by the man I love.”

“Ianto, that is not at all what I meant.” I removed my hand from the tank and turned to face him. “You are _not_ a freak. You’re just an undiscovered rarity.”

That pulled a sarcastic snort from him. “That’s a much more colorful way to say it.”

“It’s the truth.” I reached up with both hands to cradle his face. His beautiful, grimy, beloved face. “One of the things that I enjoyed the most about travelling with the Doctor was the discovery of planets and peoples’ unknown to me. Now, we get to discover the secrets of who you really are together. It’s exciting.”

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and then opened his eyes, my fingers still resting on his whiskery jaw. I saw the invitation in his gaze, so I pressed my lips to his. Repeatedly. I swept deeply into his mouth. He tasted of coffee and cinnamon. I felt weak and hot and aroused and scared. All the things that kissing this man always made me feel. Ianto Jones was a heady mix.

“I’d like to go home, fill up the tub, and take a long soak with you.”

I stared into his eyes and grew just a little weaker and fell a bit more in love. “We haven’t done that since that night in the Bog. You writhing around on my lap with my cock deep inside you sounds amazing.”

My mind pulled up sensual memories of that bath we’d shared. Of Ianto riding me tentatively, his inexperience in man/man love obvious yet so erotic. Lust pumped through me, my tired body rousing to the thought of a tub filled with bubbles and this man.

“God, yes, it does.”

“Jack? Are you down here?” We both mumbled curses and stepped apart right before Tosh peeked round the doorway. “Oh, there you two are. I’ve been wandering around for thirty minutes. I hate it down here.”

“Did you need something, Toshiko?” I asked when her gaze darted from us to the tanks.

“What is all this?” She asked, her eyes going wide. She’d never ventured this far into the tunnels before obviously. “Oh yuck, they’re hideous. We’re ready to take the miracle Janto cure.”

“Whoever coined that word?” Ianto asked. Tosh smiled innocently.

“Not me. Nope. It was Owen.” She smiled sweetly. “No offense, but I can’t stand looking at those monsters. I’ll be in sick bay.”

We watched her hurry off.

“Guess that just leaves us monsters down here,” I teased my lover.

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” He waved a hand at the tanks and us, the move quite theatrical.

“Ah, quoting Mary Shelley are we? Okay, how about this one?’ If I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness.’” 

“You’ve read _Frankenstein_ then?”

“Read it? Hell, I’ve _lived_ it.” I stole a kiss and then we left our fellow monsters behind.

**The End**

 

Acknowledgements to Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s _Frankenstein_ for the quotes.

  


 

**I’ll be taking the month of November off to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) as I have for several years. I’m hoping to reach the 50,000 word goal on one of my contracted novels, so I’ll have no fun Janto time on the side during November. *sad face here***

**BUT, come December I’m going to be back with “Trinkets, Tea, and Tears”, which will be a Ianto solo tale. So, hang in there guys and gals. And I’ll see you in December!**

**Thanks for reading along!**

**Yours in fiction-**

**Feral**


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